


To remember a lifetime

by liionne



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Flashbacks, M/M, Post-Black Panther (2018), Slow Burn, Sort of? - Freeform, brief ones - Freeform, bucky has a lot of feelings, ive never written slow burn before but i guess so, shuri is the best, somewhere between the end of the movie and, that gd post-credit scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 12:00:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13880427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liionne/pseuds/liionne
Summary: Bucky looks up into the face of a teenager, and for a moment, he doesn't know where he is. He goes to sit up, but said teenager reaches out a hand to steady him, set on the stump of where his metal arm - and before that, his real arm - used to be.Bucky takes all of this in, and then opens his mouth to speak. "Steve?"~*~Bucky wakes up in Wakanda, needing a little time to figure himself, and Steve, out.





	To remember a lifetime

"Wakey wakey, Sergeant Barnes." A voice above him says, as he blinks his eyes open slowly. "Come on, we haven't kept you frozen for so long just for you to go back to sleep, now. I want to see all the amazing work that I've done."

Bucky looks up into the face of a teenager, and for a moment, he doesn't know where he is. He goes to sit up, but said teenager reaches out a hand to steady him, set on the stump of where his metal arm - and before that, his _real_ arm - used to be.

"Slowly! Slowly, Sergeant Barnes. I don't want you vomiting in my lab." She says, and actually, Bucky does feel kind of nauseous. The world spins, and then slowly comes into focus. The teenager first, looking at him with a smile and curious eyes. Then the "lab" she had referred to, which makes his blood run cold but then he looks, and decides it seems more like an Apple Store than the labs he's seen in his lifetime, so that's okay. Behind her, a window, which doesn't seem to have much of a view.

Bucky takes all of this in, and then opens his mouth to speak. "Steve?"

"You think I look like that coloniser? I must have gotten some wires crossed in there." The girl jokes. Shuri, he remembers. Her name is Shuri. She doesn't look too much older than the first time they met; a year, perhaps, if that. Bucky looks at her for a long, quiet moment, and she seems to relent. "He's been away for a little while. I let him know that we were waking you up today, so I'm sure he's on his way."

Bucky nods, and pinches the bridge of his nose as he remembers. Remembers telling Steve not to hang around for him.

> _"You might be a fugitive, but I know you-"_

> _Steve smiled, tried to hide it, but he couldn't. Bucky knew him. Bucky **knew** him._

> _"-you'll get cabin fever if you're not out there saving the world. So go on. I'll be right here."_

> _"You're sure?" Steve asked softly, looking at Bucky like the thought of leaving him was painful._

> _Bucky nodded. It hurt him too. The thought of being somewhere Steve wasn't, only hours, days after they had found each other again. But he didn't want Steve to wait around for him. He didn't want Steve to find the time to lose interest in him. "Go, Steve. I'm not going anywhere."_

Still, he thought he might be there when he woke up. That's all.

"Just you wait and see what I have been working on for you." Shuri says, hand on Bucky's shoulder still as he shifts to swing his legs over the edge of the table. His bare feet touch the floor, and he lets go of a soft breath. "Removing pre-existing neural pathways isn't the only thing I'm good at, Sergeant Barnes,"

"Bucky." He interrupts as he stands up, and stretches.

It feels - nice. To be out. To be upright. Shuri steps away to let him roll his shoulders, twist a little, loosen himself up. He's been frozen and unfrozen so many times, now, that this is normal. Shaking off the frost, coming back to his body. It's just nice not to be forced into a suit and sent out to kill someone.

Though it would be nicer, he thinks, if Steve were here to hold his hand.

"Bucky." Shuri agrees, pulling up a hologram-type thing - Bucky doesn't understand the tech, but one day he'll ask - and giving it a spin with the tips of her fingers. It was an arm; a metal arm, but not like the old one. Somehow it looked... lighter. More refined. "A new arm. This one with tactile sensation, and more lightweight than the last one, from what I hear." Bucky grimaces; it's all the confirmation that Shuri needs. "We have started building the prototype, but it isn't ready yet. You'll be the first to know when it is."

Bucky gives a little nod, quiet. His stomach, however, has other ideas; its growling fills the empty lab.

"Come with me," Shuri says, the hologram disappearing. "It's almost dinner time, and my mother will like the extra company, with T'Challa gone. Our cook makes the best chicken luwombo you've ever tasted."

She begins to walk up the spiral walkway in the middle of the room, not waiting for Bucky to follow. Bucky looks down at his feet, and clears his throat. "I don't have any shoes."

"Take the sandals on the bench." Shuri says, waving a hand at the lab bench opposite. "They are my brother's, but I'll be glad to get rid of them."

There's a story there, Bucky is sure - he'd had siblings, he understands, even if he can't really remember - but he doesn't ask. He takes the sandals, and follows Shuri up the walkway.

He's hungry; that's the first thing. He's tired; that's the second. But the third - and really, it's the first, because he'd go hungry and tired if he had to - is Steve. He wants to see Steve. He just hopes he isn't too far away.

~*~

It takes two days. Bucky sleeps in a room in the palace; he doesn't sleep much, though, because he feels like he's slept enough, and Shuri had been sure to tell him that exploring the place was fine.

"Just try not to get lost," She had told him as she had delivered him to his quarters. "I haven't got a tracking chip on you yet."

He sleeps for a few hours, then wakes; roams the palace for an hour or two, then goes back to sleep. Over and over, from dusk til dawn, for two days.

During the day, Shuri runs tests on him. She tells Bucky that it's been almost a year; ten months or so, in fact. She wasn't expecting it to take so long - she has a lot of faith in herself - but she wanted it to be done right. Properly. "No half-assing things", she had said, which had made the Queen Mother tell her off, a quiet admonishment.

Bucky doesn't mind the tests, though. Shuri's joking and chattering is better than deathly silence. And the tests keep him occupied. They keep him from pining for Steve from his room.

Sometimes, he looks out of the window. Just looks, as if he looks long enough he'll see Steve out there, somewhere. He knows he won't; they're so high up, it would be impossible, but maybe he'll see him, somehow. A car pulling up, an aircraft flying over. Nothing, though.

Until.

He's sitting on the same table he had woken up on, legs dangling over the edge. Shuri and a few others, more specialist neuroscientists he gathers, work around him, still trying to scan his brain and make sure they've undone everything Hydra did. They can't bring back memories, they say, but they'll come. In time.

"Breaking neural bridges is easier than building them," One man explains, to which Bucky nods.

"Finding, not building." Shuri corrects. "They're all in there." She assures him, tapping her temple.

"I might be able to help with that." A voice says, and it's so familiar that Bucky doesn't need to see Steve to know that it's him. Relief hits him in waves - at first because Steve is back, at last, and then because he recognised him. Remembered him. Things haven't changed too much after all.

Steve approaches, hesitant; Bucky can understand, but it kind of hurts, at the same time. He doesn't know what it is. He doesn't know why he's been missing Steve so badly, why it is that he feels empty without him - felt, because now that Steve is stood in front of him he feels a lot better.

But he had expected Steve to rush forward, to hug him tightly. Instead he hovers, looking like he wishes to take up less space. He looks so different; his hair is longer, and he's grown a beard - they make him look older. They make him look sort of dangerous, in a way that Steve has never looked before. His eyes, though - his eyes speak of how tired he is, even if there's a fondness there.

It doesn't matter. What he looks like, it's irrelevant. It's been almost a year since they last saw one another, and all Bucky desperately wants is to touch him, but Steve seems so unsure.

Until Bucky holds his arm out to him, and Steve rushes forward, wrapping his arms tightly around his middle.

"Hey, Buck." Steve whispers, low enough for only Bucky to hear. Bucky smiles against the inside of Steve's shoulder. "Hey, Steve." He returns.

When Steve pulls back, he stays close, but Bucky can see T'Challa over his shoulder. He clears his throat, and meets the Black Panther's gaze. "King T'Challa." He says, giving a small nod.

"Sergeant Barnes." T'Challa says. And then-- "Are those my royal sandals?"

"You don't need them anymore." Shuri snaps, lightly (Bucky assumes) hitting her brother's chest.

T'Challa wants to argue, Bucky can tell, but he knows better. He takes a hold of his sister by the elbow, and pulls her back a step. "Let's leave them to catch up, Shuri. It's been a while." He says, looking first to Steve, and then to Bucky, before bowing out with a grace that Bucky couldn't ever imagine possessing.

"A beard?" Bucky asks, a smile curving his lips.

"I've been clean shaven my entire life, it's disguise enough." Steve says, his cheeks turning a little pink.

"Well, I suppose." Bucky murmurs. After a second, he adds, "It's a good look."

Steve blushes even more at that, ducking his head. No matter how dangerous or tired or whatever else he looks, he's always the same - that small, sort of self-conscious (though happy, always happy) smile, the shake of his head. He was always bad at taking compliments. Bucky remembers that.

> _"You cut your hair? Looks good." Bucky said, looking at Steve as he shucked off his hat and his jacket, and hung them by the door._

> _Steve looked up at him - he was all angles back then, all bones, but Bucky had always thought that it was... nice. He looked nice._

> _"Yeah, sure." Steve said, shifting in his chair; he was cooking, Bucky could smell it, and he always sat by the oven when it was on. "Looks like i got attacked by a toddler with a pair of scissors, but--"_

> _"Do I ever lie to you?" He asked Steve, sitting opposite him at the table, his head propped up in his hand._

> _Steve hesitated. He knew the answer, he just wasn't happy about it. "No."_

> _"No." Bucky agreed, reaching across to tussle Steve's newly cut hair. "So when I say it looks good I mean it, punk."_

> _"Yeah, yeah," Steve had laughed, kicking at him under the table. "Jerk."_

Steve reaches out to touch his cheek, and it brings Bucky back to earth, grounding him in the moment. Bucky leans into it, just a little bit, feeling the warmth of Steve's palm against his skin.

"I missed you." Steve says softly. Three words, and Bucky already feels better, even better than before. Steve missed him. Steve still thinks of him. Steve has been thinking about him all this time.

"Me too." Bucky murmurs. "Ten months is a long time."

"Ten months, two weeks, three days." Steve says. Bucky doesn't know why he's surprised that Steve knows that; he was always one for timekeeping, and like he said - he missed him. "I'm sorry I wasn't hear sooner. Shuri didn't give me much notice."

Bucky shakes his head. It doesn't matter. "Where were you?" He asks, because even though it doesn't matter, he still wants to know.

"Togo. There was a situation, but the Accords... no one was helping. T'Challa and I, and a few of the guys, we took care of it." Steve says.

That was why Bucky had told him to go. Why he hadn't asked him to wait around for him. Because he knew that Steve would want to go out into the world, and make a difference when others wouldn't, or couldn't. It didn't matter whether Steve had a shield and a fancy suit or not, whether he was Captain America, or not - he would always be a good man.

"That's good." Bucky murmurs. Steve gives a little nod, but he's looking at Bucky strange, like - like he wants something, but he isn't sure what. Or that he isn't sure that he should want it at all.

His hand falls away from Bucky's cheek, and Bucky immediately misses it. "I uh - I need to shower. And change." Steve says. "They give you a room?"

Bucky nods.

"Have you been out to see the city?" Steve asks. Bucky shakes his head. "Well - if you want we can go and see the sights. You can wear some of my clothes, if you don't wanna wear those."

He nods to the hospital-type clothes Shuri had given Bucky a wardrobe full of, white shirts and grey pants. He _does_  want to change. He wants to wear real people clothes.

He nods. "I'd like that." He murmurs, and Steve smiles softly, looking again like he wants to do something he shouldn't, or that he can't. Instead, he steps backwards, and lets Bucky slip down from the table, waiting for him so he can lead the way to Steve's quarters.

~*~

It's warm on the streets of Birnin Zana, and Bucky likes it. He's been so cold for so long, and standing in the street, his hair tied back in a neat bun, wearing one of Steve's t-shirts and a pair of jeans, he feels the warmth. It soaks into his skin, right through to his bones, making him feel better.

For a second after they've stepped onto the street, Bucky turns his face to the sun, and lets it sink in for just a second. Steve hovers close to him, and when Bucky finally opens his eyes and looks at Steve, Steve smiles back at him, and reaches for his hand.

There's so much to see in the Wakandan capital. There seems to be so much going on, and yet everyone seems so relaxed, enjoying themselves. Bucky walks past people chatting and laughing, other people dancing, right there in the street. A few people call out to Steve and he waves in return, says hello back, and Bucky is amazed, quite frankly.

"How do you know him?" He asks. "How do you know them?" "How do you know her?" With every person who waves Bucky only has more questions, until eventually, Steve sits him down at a cafe, buys him a cup of coffee, and tells him what he's been missing the past ten months.

"Well I didn't go right away. I've never not been Captain America before, so it was kind of nice to just... walk around. Meet people. That's how I met N'Yami, and M'Koni, and Kwezi; I just saw them every day, for about a month." Steve says, and shrugs.

"So they're your friends." Bucky surmises.

"Well, everyone here is friendly, if you hadn't noticed." Steve says, and actually - yeah. Bucky hasn't really experienced much of the world since breaking free of Hydra, but people in Bucharest tended to keep their heads down, and then there was the team of, oh, six or seven Avengers who wanted to beat the crap out of him.

"But yeah," Steve smiles. "I guess they are."

Bucky nods. Jeez - it's been a long time since he's had friends. When _was_ the last time he had friends? No one at Hydra was his friend, not even if they acted like it. He hadn't really made any friends after that. Was it the 40s?

Bucky hadn't had friends since the 40s. Except for Steve, who was looking at him with that small, fond smile, eyes glancing over his features like he was trying to burn them into his mind.

Maybe he and Steve weren't just friends. If they weren't, though, he didn't know what to call them.

"Do you know what you want do?" Steve asks, setting his coffee cup down onto the table and squinting through the sun. Bucky had asked to sit outside; Steve had been more than happy to oblige. "Now that you're a free man?"

He's not free though, is he? Shuri isn't even fully sure that she's properly gotten rid of his programming, and he only has one arm, and he was on Steve's side for that whole shitty weekend he had, so didn't that technically make him a fugitive, regardless of whether or not he had been cleared for the death of T'Chaka?

"Sort of." Steve amends, like he can read Bucky's damn mind. Maybe he can. Maybe that's what a good 90 years of friendship would do to you, even if you spent 70 of those years apart. "Here, at least, you can do whatever you like."

That's interesting to Bucky. Wakanda might be a tiny kingdom, but he's safe here. He has a _home_  here, should he want it. He's quite sure that T'Challa and Shuri would let him stay in the palace for as long as he wanted, too.

But he doesn't want to stay here. The sights and smells and sounds of the city are good, and Shuri's constant, reassuring ribbing is nice, but they're not what he wants.

Bucky has spent the last ten months in cryo, and the two years before that on his own. And yet, all he wants is to rest, and be alone again.

So long as Steve's there, of course.

"I think - I think I'd like to get out of the city." He says slowly. He feels selfish for it, see. Steve has always loved the city; Bucky knows that about him. How many times had Bucky suggested saving up and going somewhere where the air was cleaner? He could remember it, not too clearly, but he could remember.

> _"I'm not saying we gotta retire to a farm in Iowa, Stevie, I'm just saying - the fumes ain't doing you any good. We wouldn't even need to leave New York! Head north and you've got all those little villages, out near Vermont--"_

> _"Bucky, I swear to god, I can't think of a single thing worse than living in a tiny village. Everyone knowing everyone? Everyone talking, all of the time?"_

> _Well, he had a point there. Bucky sighed softly, but Steve kept talking._

> _"And where would we work? What would we **do** , Buck? And what about when I need to see a doctor? What then?" Steve asked. Bucky can't remember his face, but his mind fills in the blank with what he **does**  know, which is that furrowed-brow, pig-headed look._

> _He knew he had Bucky there. "Fine." Bucky sighed. "But we're taking a vacation soon. ive your lungs a break."_

> _"Yeah, yeah, sure," Steve had said, the two of them knowing full well that they would never be able to afford it, and likely never leave New York._

Steve nods a little; he looks surprised by that, but he does his best to hide it. Bucky continues, "They have farms here, right? I think - I don't know. Maybe I'd like to do that, for a while. Or just live somewhere out there, by the borders. Everyone says it's nice out there.

"I'm still... It's been two days, Steve. And I know I had two years, or so, but it's not... it wasn't long enough. To remember a lifetime. I started figuring out who I _was_ , but now I have to figure out who I _am_ , and I don't think I can do that in the middle of it all."

Steve looks vaguely hurt as his gazes drops to the tabletop, and though it takes a second, Bucky realises what that sounded like. It sounded like Bucky asking to be left alone again. It sounded like he had asked Steve to leave him, for a _third_ time, despite having once again only just gotten him back.

But, no, that wasn't it. Not this time. So hastily, Bucky reaches across the table, and lays his hand over Steve's. "I want you to be there, though." He says, and swallows. He knows he used to be better with words. He was a - a charmer. That's what Sarah had always called him, his own mother too. He was a charmer, or he had been, because now it felt like it took him years to choose his words, and even then it felt like he chose the wrong ones. "You said it yourself, you can... help with that."

Steve's answering smile is, quite frankly, dazzling. "I'll talk to T'Challa." He says, giving Bucky's hand a gentle squeeze. "See what I can set up."

Bucky gives him a gentle smile in response; he trusts Steve to pull the whole thing together.

~*~

Shuri is reluctant to let him go, but after a few more days, when T'Challa tells Steve that everything has been set up for them, she clears Bucky for an ordinary life.

"I'm going to keep working on that arm," She assures him, standing beside her brother as Steve loads a few bags into the back of the car they had been given. It's more for Steve than for Bucky - who has no plans to go anywhere, thank you - and it's a little more old school than anything Wakanda has seen for a while, but it's still good. He's still thankful, and makes sure T'Challa knows it.

"How do you feel about lasers?" Shuri asks, and Bucky is so taken off guard that he's grateful for T'Challe, when he interrupts.

"I will keep her in line." He assures them both, to which Shuri rolls her eyes. "We'll check in every so often, but don't worry. You know you are safe here."

Steve closes the trunk, says his thank yous, and his goodbyes. Bucky wishes he was better with his words, because he can't thank either of them enough. By the time he's chosen the best words to say, he and Steve are halfway to the Alkama Fields, _The Golden City_ fading into the distance behind them.

What they arrive to, the little dot on the GPS that Shuri had programmed for them, is a relatively tiny hut by the shores of a lake. There are a few other huts scattered around, too, a few fields mapped out for livestock, Bucky presumes.

"This what you had in mind?" Steve asks, lifting the bags out of the trunk of the car and placing them on the ground. Bucky looks around slowly, and then to Steve, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Pretty much." He says. It draws a laugh from Steve, who takes the bags in one hand, and Bucky's hand in the other, leading him inside.

~*~

There are two beds, about a foot apart. Bucky knows, already, that a foot is too far.

The past few nights, he and Steve have shared a bed. Neither one of them had really talkd about it, it had just been understood - Steve took the left, Bucky took the right, and that was how they slept.

For Bucky, it was because he wanted Steve close. Still, he has no idea what the reason behind it is, but he knows that the idea of staying in a separate room as steve, not being within arms reach of him - it's wrong. It makes him feel sort of anxious, in fact, and maybe that's a dependency problem but he just doesn't care enough. Not yet, anyway.

He doesn't know why Steve condones it. Maybe because he wants Bucky to be happy. Maybe because he's worried Bucky will disappear again. Maybe he just likes sharing the bed. Bucky knows they used to do that before, because there was only one bed in that old, drafty apartment in Brooklyn. Maybe it's habit.

Whatever it is, Bucky's grateful.

"Wanna move them together?" Steve asks, and Bucky nods, so glad that he had brought it up. He would have felt awkward about asking him.

They shift the two beds together, and look at them thoughtfully for a moment. The sun is already setting outside, but Bucky isn't tired. He isn't much of anything, save, maybe, for content.

"I'm going to cook something," Steve says, moving to light the fire on the other side of the hut. "Are you hungry?"

"Not really." Bucky says, shaking his head. "But I - I can help. If you want."

Steve hands him a knife, and a handful of vegetables, and for a second Bucky looks at the knife, glinting in the light from the fire. Steve had handed him that knife so easily, like it was nothing, but Bucky almost didn't trust himself with it. He felt like he could snap at any time, but that wasn't true anymore, was it? Shuri had taken care of all of that for him.

Bucky peels vegetables, and Steve chops some meat, fries it with some rice. They've done this before, but in tents propped up in the Alps, or in the Italian countryside, or... well, Bucky isn't sure where else, but he knows that there were other places.

> _"Nuh uh. I like these men. Relinquish the food, Rogers, I'm taking care of it from here."_

> _"Bucky," Steve deadpanned. "I can cook. I won't kill anyone."_

> _"Yeah, sure," Bucky said, shooing Steve from his spot by the fire. Dum Dum and Gabe were keeping watch, and Falsworth, Morita and Dernier had gone to bed. They'd all had a long, stressful day, but Steve (and Bucky, too, to soe extent) wasn't tired, thanks to the serum, so he had offered to cook._

> _Bucky liked keeping his food down, though, hence why he had taken over. "You have a super duper immune system now, we regular folks have got to take better care of ourselves. You can still be useful." Bucky offered, nodding to the potatoes they had been given by a grateful villager. "Get peelin'."_

When had Steve learned to cook? Bucky would ask him one day. For now, he was content to work in silence.

~*~

They ate under the stars, sitting in the dirt just outside their new home.

"If someone had gone back in time, and told me that in the 21st century, I'd be living in a hut in the Wakandan countryside, I would've thought they were mad." Steve says, and smiles.

"You're a fugitivie, too." Bucky adds. "And 240lbs."

"And yet, still with you." Steve says, setting his empty bowl down on the ground. "That part I could've believed."

Bucky smiles, his eyes on the stars. There are so many stars here, more than he had ever seen before, even in the city. So many stars. And yet his gaze is pulled towards Steve, his head tilted back too, eyes on the skyline.

"I'm glad that you're here." Bucky murmurs. For a second, he wonders if Steve even heard him, because he doesn't react. But then he looks over at Bucky, and there's a glint in his eye that Bucky doesn't think he's ever seen before. No - no, he has, but not like this. Not with Steve like this. That look makes him think of Brooklyn, and a Steve that was all angles, sharp bone under soft skin.

"I'll go wherever you go, Buck." He says, and Bucky feels his chest tighten. Steve's words are loaded; his voice sounds different to how it usually does. He's saying things without really saying them, Bucky thinks. Just like in the lab, that look he'd had, like he wanted to do something but had no idea if he should, or if he could. He was dancing around the subject yet again. "From now on, I'm not going to be anywhere you aren't. I don't _want_  to be."

He means something by that, Bucky thinks, but his brain, his newly rewired mind, can't make sense of it. He isn't a charmer anymore. He isn't as fast on his feet as he used to be - only the literal sense, he supposes. It's... distressing. He wants to say something, but he isn't sure what.

So he doesn't. He keeps quiet. He looks back to the stars, even though steve stays looking at him.

"I don't want you to." Bucky says softly, after a good five minutes. Steve had directed his gaze back to the sky, but now he looks at Bucky so fast that he wonders if he gave himself whiplash. The penny drops. Five minutes was not long enough for him to plan his words right, apparently. "I don't want you to be anywhere that I - that I'm not. I mean." He stammers, as Steve looks at him with those too-blue eyes. "I want you to be here." He says, reaching out to take his hand.

The panic in Steve's eyes fades, turns to fondness, and that strange look. He's looking at Bucky but he doesn't move any closer, like Bucky thinks he wants to. In the end, it's Bucky who does it, shuffling close so he can rest his head against Steve's shoulder, their bodies pressed together. This already feels better than the hustle and bustle of the city, he thinks. He hopes that Steve agrees.

~*~

They sleep on their sides, facing each other, a small gap between them. The gap shrinks over the course of the night, the two of them drifting together, tangling in one another until it's hard to tell where one ends and the other begins. Neither of them complain, not even when they awake in the morning, already sweating from their combined body heat and the morning sun.

Bucky, amazingly, doesn't have any nightmares. His time on the run had been plagued with nightmares; Steve had found him in Bucharest, his eyes circled in deep black, a lack of sleep following him no matter how many times he moved.

Except for tonight, their third night in that little hut. Bucky wakes up in a cold sweat, screaming, his stump of an arm aching, his temples burning, tears streaming down his cheeks. He sits bolt upright, panting hard and Steve is quickly to join him, reaching out to hold him.

"Hey, it's okay, you're alright." Steve says. "It's 2017, we're in Wakanda, you're safe. It's 2017, and we're in Wakanda, and you're _safe_. I'm here." He murmurs, over and over again.

When he closes his eyes, Bucky can still see that chair; he feels like he can still feel the straps tying him to it, the bit in his mouth. He breaths harshly, and then turns his head and sobs into Steve's chest.

Bucky's sobs subside after a while, but he doesn't let go of Steve, fingers still curled in his shirt, anchoring Bucky to him. They sit up, awake, and watch the sun rise through their front door.

~*~

After a week, Shuri comes to visit.

"I told you I'd be coming to check on you, didn't I?" She grins. "I don't abandon my broken white boys. You, shoo, you're going to distract him." She says to Steve, who hovers like he doesn't want to leave Bucky, but eventually walks off towards the water's edge when Bucky gives him a nod.

"I had a nightmare." Bucky says softly. "I haven't had a nightmare since - before. Did you do that?"

"Not on purpose." Shuri says. She's nearly eighteen years old, but sometimes, for all her joking, she looks a lot older. "But it could be a side effect. We take away the neural pathways, we take away the memories. See?"

Bucky nods. He wishes she could take all of them away. From the look on her face, she feels the same way.

She does a few routine checks, buzzing around him. "My mother wanted to make sure you and your super soldier boyfriend are enjoying your new digs. She says you're welcome to come back to the palace when you wish to."

"He's not my boyfriend." Bucky murmurs. "But we're happy here. Tell her thank you."

"He's not your boyfriend?" Shuri asks, eyebrow arching quizically. "Has someone told him that? Has someone told _you_  that?"

Bucky doesn't know if she's still teasing, so he just doesn't respond. His brain doesn't work fast enough for that anymore, anyway.

"You can come back now, Captain Rogers." She calls.

"It's just Steve, now." He corrects her as he walks back to them. He reaches out, hand settling on Bucky's shoulder, and Bucky's glad. Glad that he's back. That he isn't deterred by Shuri's presence. "Everything okay?"

"In my expert opinion, yes." She nods, and then grins. "I'm still working on your arm." She assures Bucky. "Not long now."

"Take your time." He says. Only having one arm is a pain, but he has Steve. He can manage. He finds he doesn't miss the bulky metal too much.

They wave her off, and duck back into their hut, back to their new routine.

~*~

They see Shuri once a week. Sometimes, her brother is with her. Steve goes back into the city one day, for supplies. Bucky stays at home, and regrets the decision as soon as the car is out of sight, so he vows to go with him next time. At night, they sit and watch the stars, and in the morning they go for a swim, enjoying this new, natural lifestyle.

It's almost two months of gentle cohabitation when their routine is interrupted by T'Challa, who slips into their hut in the middle of the night.

"Rogers," He says, as Steve slowly sits up, followed soon by Bucky. "Trouble in South America. They won't send the Avengers in."

Steve nods, considers that. Bucky can tell that he's making a list in his mind, pros and cons. Bucky squeezes his hand. "Go."

"My stuff onboard?" Steve asks. There'll be an aircraft sitting outside, waiting to take them away. Bucky's heart stops at the thought, chest constricting.

T'Challa nods. "We must go." He says, and though his voice is calm even Bucky can hear the urgency in his tone.

He leaves, silent as ever, and Steve looks at Bucky for a long time. "It won't be for long." He says. And then, "You could come with us."

Bucky shakes his head. "I'm staying here." he says softly. "I don't want to fight anymore.

Steve looks at him for another long, terrible moment. Bucky knows he's going to leave and he knows that he has to, but it _hurts_. Steve leans closer to him for a second, looks at him again, and then he stands. "I won't be long." He says to Bucky, hurrying out of the hut after T'Challa.

Bucky stands in the doorway, and watches the aircraft as it leaves him behind.

_I should've kissed him,_ he thinks, looking at the empty sky.

~*~

It's torture. No - Bucky has known torture. But still, it's difficult, it's _so_  difficult.

Bucky exists. He eats and he does a little bit of work for a farmer close by, as one day turns to two, three, stretching into an entire week. An entire week without Steve.

_I should have kissed him. I should have kissed him. I should have_ \--

Bucky should have done so many things.

Being alone gives him time to think. He thinks about his dependency on Steve - or is it dependency, he wonders, because here he is without Steve, still eating and drinking and living a life like a regular person. He misses him. He misses him like hell. But he gets up every morning, goes to bed and does his best to sleep at night. He cooks, cleans. He even starts to learn Xhosa, because why not? He's always liked learning languages, even before - everything.

He lives his life, it's just sort of lonely.

But he thinks about Steve. Steve, who sometimes looks like he isn't sure how to act around Bucky. Steve, who had leaned in close to him, and then fled, that same look in his eyes.

Had Steve been going to kiss him? It takes Bucky an entire day to think about it, mind sluggishly working through it. Give him a rifle and he'll disassemble it and reassemble it before you can blink, but give him a puzzle like this one, concerning people, interpersonal relationships--

It takes him a little while, but he gets there in the end.

He wants to kiss Steve. Every time Steve gives him that strange look, he wishes he would just do it. Just do whatever it was he was wanting to do. Bucky would tell him to back off, if he didn't like it, but he had a feeling he would. No, not a feeling. He knows he would.

At night, he sits, and watches the stars, and wonders what Steve is doing, right then.

~*~

Shuri visits again, at the weekend. If Bucky didn't have the smartphone she'd given him he might not know that it's the weekend, but thankfully he does.

"Any more nightmares?" She asks. Bucky shakes his head. "Are you sleeping at all?"

He pauses. "A little." He says.

She nods. "I get it, Bucky." She says. At first he thinks, _how can you_? But then he remembers that T'Challa is out there too, and he's glad he didn't say anything out loud, because he hates himself for even thinking it.

"They won't be long." She assures him. "They never are."

And then she assures him that his new arm is coming along nicely. She shows him a photo, this time; it's halfway assembled. "You'll need to come into the lab soon, so we can fit it, make sure that it works. It will, of course, because it's my tech," She smiles gratiously. "But just to be sure."

He agrees, but makes no promises. He watches her go, and returns to the little routine he has made for himself, the one now adapted to being alone.

~*~

When Steve returns, it's the middle of the day. The aircraft hovers over the hut for a second, and then sets down just beside it, touching the earth gently. The stairs come down, and Bucky watches with bated breath. He had been making lunch, and it's probably burning, but he can't bring himself to care.

Steve steps down from the craft, looking dirty and tired and sore, and Bucky can't even move. Just waits for Steve to get to him, to wrap himself around him and hold him tight.

Twelve days, in the end. Bucky is glad that it's over.

T'Challa doesn't come out, the craft simply takes off again, and so Bucky makes a mental note to thank him, later, for bringing Steve home in one piece.

"I missed you." Steve murmurs, and Bucky's heart flip-flops.

"I missed you too." He murmurs. "You should - you should rest. And eat. Come on--" he urges, in a way that feels familiar.

> _"You have to eat something, Steve, you're a bag of bones as it is."_

> _"I'm not hungry." Steve croaked._

> _"Like I give a fuck, c'mon." Bucky insisted, holding the spoon of warm soup to his lips. Steve looked at him, apprehensive, and slowly opened his mouth. They repeated the process for half an hour, untilt he bowl was lukewarm and mostly empty. Bucky set it down on the nightstand, and felt Steve's forehead with the back of his hand._

> _"Still burning up." He murmured, mostly to himself. "Get some rest, Stevie, okay?"_

> _He went to leave, but Steve pushed himself back up onto his elbows. "Stay." he rasped._

> _Bucky turned on his heel, looked at him. "Please, stay." Steve said._

> _And so Bucky moved to his side of the bed, Steve under the covers, Bucky on top of them. He stroked his fingers through Steve's sweat-soaked hair and prayed for the fever to break, sooner rather than later._

Steve takes no persuading. He moves to the hut, flops down onto the floor, and falls asleep before he can eat anything. Bucky doesn't mind. Even with the sunlight filtering inside, he lies down by Steve's side and falls asleep next to him, just content to have him close.

~*~

Steve gets up in the morning, bathes, eats. They get back to their usual routine, which is good for Bucky as only having one hand made his life so horribly difficult.

Bucky doesn't kiss Steve. He doesn't tell Steve about all of the things he had thought about. He goes on working with the farmer a few huts away, and he watches the stars at night with Steve. He sleeps next to him, wakes up half-way on top of him, and decides he doesn't mind this limbo that he has found himself in, for now.

~*~

Shuri is good at her job. Within another week, she sends a message to Bucky, telling him that his arm is ready, he needs to come in.

"Do you want to?" Steve asks. The look on Bucky's face must say no, but it just isn't that simple.

Because, see, the answer is yes. He knows Shuri will have done a good job. The arm will be vibranium, and lightweight, and the tech behind it will be more advanced. She's probably hooked it up with a whole bunch of awesome kit (hopefully not lasers, though), and he knows it'll work, and work well. And anyway, Bucky liked having two hands, even if the old one made his shoulder ache and was prone to shorting out or shocking him somtimes.

But getting a new arm means going back into the city, and Bucky has grown used to this simple country life. He's worried that the city might overwhelm him. He's worried that it'll be too much.

"Yes." He answers. He doesn't know how long it took him to reach that conclusion, but Steve is still looking at him, and he nods.

"Alright." He says. "We'll leave tomorrow."

Tomorrow is very soon, Bucky thinks, but the sooner the better. The sooer they go, the sooner they can come back, hopefully with four hands between them.

Steve drives, and Bucky watches the countryside fade as they drive back towards the capital, waving to the children that run alongside the car and the villagers who hold a hand up in acknowledgment.

They don't see much of the city, and instead head straight to the palace. Bucky is grateful, but he doesn't say as much; he supposes Steve already knows, because he tends to.

He doesn't know some things, though. Apparently not. Because he still hasn't kissed Bucky. Bucky hasn't kissed him either, but that's beside the point.

Being back in the lab feels strange. It hasn't been too long, in the grand scheme of things, but it feels like years since he woke up on that table, disoriented and shoeless. Speaking of which, he realises he's still wearing T'Challa's royal sandals. He never thought to look for a new pair, and when the king greets them, he doesn't mention it.

The arm is sitting on one of the lab benches, propped up so Bucky can see it properly. He's - amazed. He's amazed by it. He'd always been something of a tech nerd before, and this just... brings it back.

> _"Stark Expo! Cmon, Stevie, we gotta go to that." Bucky said, looking at the poster with wide eyes._

> _"We gotta?" Steve asked, to which Bucky rolled said eyes._

> _"Yeah, we gotta. The guy's a **genius**. Look at this, Stevie, a flying **car**  How cool is that?" Bucky gushed._

> _Steve just laughed, knocking Bucky with his shoulder. "Yeah, alright, we can go. If it'll get you to shut up."_

> _"For now." Bucky grinned._

"It fits like any other prosthetic would, except - better." Shuri says, with that glint in her eyes that actually draws a laugh from Bucky. "Sit." She orders. T'Challa frowns, goes to warn her but she waves him away.

Bucky does as he's told, whilst Steve sticks close to his side. Shuri lifts the arm carefully from its stand and brings it over to his side, moving the fabric out of the way; one of the villagers had given Bucky some more traditional Wakandan dress whilst working on his farm, and Bucky had decided that he liked it. It makes it easy for Shuri to expose what little is left of his arm, and fit the prosthetic neatly onto it.

It fits like a glove, and Bucky isn't sure how, but it stays there. He goes to move it, but Shuri holds up her hand. "I need to switch it on, and sync it to you." She explains. She taps away for a second, and then she gives Bucky a nod.

He starts by curling his hand into a fist, and then unfurling his fingers again. And they just - do it. Just like that. He turns his palm over, and he blinks slowly. It's... amazing.

He feels bad, becaue Shuri is explaining the science behind it, and Bucky would love to know how it works but he's too busy marvelling at the way it seems to just... do as he tells it. No delay, no lag. He doesn't even really need to think about it. And the way it just sits on his shoulder - within a minute, he's accustomed to it, as if it were his own arm after all.

"--tactile pads on the fingers and the palm, but I couldn't find a way to make it fit the entire forearm, we can work on that." She concludes. "Touch your face." She says.

Bucky does as he's told, fingertips reaching up to touch his cheek, and he gasps, feeling his own skin, a little dry, perhaps, the rough scratch of his beard, he feels all of it, just as he would with his regular hand.

Steve has been watching him this entire time, and now Bucky looks at him, and finds him smiling. He reaches out to him, slowly extending his metal hand. Shuri steps back, standing beside her brother, but doesn't leave; Bucky gets it, this is her brand new kit, but her presence doesn't bother him anyway, not really.

Steve steps close to him, and Bucky's hand collides with his chest, feeling the fabric of his shirt, soft cotton. He moves his hand up, fingertips skirting over his neck, and he feels Steve's skin, feels his pulse. He's felt it a thousand times before, in the past few months, but this time it's different. This time he has two hands, see, and he cups Steve's cheeks, looks up at him and marvels at the feeling.

Steve is still watching him, smiling softly at him, like Bucky is the single best thing he's ever seen. Maybe he is. Wouldn't that be amazing?

Because Steve is the best thing Bucky's ever seen - he knows that for certain.

"Let's go." He hears T'Challa murmur to Shuri. She begins to protest, but he leads her away, which Bucky only knows thanks to the silence they leave behind, because he isn't looking.

He's looking at Steve.

He runs his fingertips over Steve's cheek, over his smile, and he feels his eyes grow wet. He's not going to cry, he doesn't want to cry, but he just can't _help_  it--

Steve leans in and kisses him, and Bucky decides he's never been happier.

The press of Steve's lips against his is soft, and sweet. It's not enough and just enough all at once. Bucky knows he wants more but he's so content with this, so happy just to have his hands on Steve, to be able to feel his pulse under his fingertips.

When he pulls away, he can't help but smile, and Steve rests his forehead against Bucky's gently. "I've wanted to do that for so long." he breathes.

Bucky laughs softly, a soft breath more than anything else. "Why didn't you?" He asks.

Steve pulls back just an inch, an inch too far, as far as Bucky is concerned. "I didn't - I didn't know that you... wanted me to."

"I didn't either, I don't think." He says. "Until you went away." He adds quietly.

There's silence, the two of them just looking at each other for one wonderful moment.

"You can kiss me again, if you like." Bucky murmurs. Steve grins; he needs no more invitation that, apparently, leaning forward to kiss Bucky again.

**Author's Note:**

> Any mistakes are all mine. I hope I did a half-way decent job at protraying Wakanda and my darlings, T'Challa and Shuri. I did as much research as I could!
> 
> Feel free to leave any comments, questions or anything else here or over on [my tumblr](http://liionne.tumblr.com)


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